Three-door pavilion next to rapeseed, this moment, in my eyes, near you like a pure white dove, hiding in the quiet corner of the garden; never Speaking of tenderness, my eyes flashed the depression of love. Sometimes, like a blushing dream, it is magical, flickering in the heart, but it is both faithful and sweet, and makes my life full of gratitude. Is it you? Hold the palms and secrets of wildflowers and pray in the dark. The warmth and brightness of the prayer time was brought back to the world in March. Is it you? Waiting for the footsteps and breath of the spring breeze, I hope in the late afternoon. I hope that the land of winter will be frozen and return to warmth and sunshine in this spring. Lift up the little red dress, carefully plunging into the wildflowers of this place, bending down and looking at them seriously. For the world, this spring, bend over to touch the green. This is a small village hidden in the wilderness. Most of the left-behind are white-haired old people. Looking at the brightly dressed, we walked with the camera, the eyes were novel and puzzled. I couldnt guess what they wanted to know. I just went to the side of the villages grandmother, sat down and told her in my hometown, I want to talk to it. She took a photo. She whispered something, there was light in her eyes, took my hand, looked at the camera in the photographer's hand in the direction of my finger, and laughed.